


Resistance

by roguetimebot



Series: Aftershock [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crossing Parallels, F/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7348411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguetimebot/pseuds/roguetimebot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being left at Bad Wolf Bay, Rose and the meta-crisis Doctor struggle to readjust. Rose remains heartbroken, and the Doctor resolves to give her as much time as she requires. Much to the Doctor's dismay, an unexpected disturbance in the universe might mean she never comes around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 330 Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of 3 (hopefully)

The thing about women being left on chilly Norwegian beaches after being present for the genocide of an alien fleet set on destroying reality with the man who committed said genocide and your own mum is that no one really knows what to address first.

Jackie Tyler, in classic Jackie-Tyler style, comes up with something first, and her utterance is what no one considered being the next words spoken between the three of them.

"Did you sprout any new organs when you lost one of your hearts?"

The Doctor peers over his shoulder at Jackie, standing far off behind him and Rose. Rose still looks straight on at the spot where the TARDIS had just dematerialized.

"Sorry?" the Doctor prompts.

"Are there any other human organs you were missing before?" she clarifies. "Maybe aliens only have one lung and four kidneys! Did you feel low on kidneys?"

"Mum," Rose says softly, still not looking back. Her voice is low and somber, yet has an air of lightness to it, like she doesn't know how to feel about just about anything.

"I ought to take care of transport and things," Jackie dismisses herself smoothly. "Good thing I brought a mobile, eh?"

The Doctor nods her off, and she turns to saunter off. She treks across the sandy expanse of Bad Wolf Bay and disappears behind a cluster of jagged rocks in the distance.

The Doctor faces forward again, glancing sidelong at Rose, who still looks perplexed.

"Okay?" he asks kindly.

"Fine," she replies blandly.

"That bad, eh?" the Doctor considers.

"I said fine."

"When someone actually is 'fine,' and is asked if they're okay or how they're doing, the response they think up usually isn't 'fine,'" the Doctor explains.

"Yeah, you've cracked it," Rose nods exaggeratedly. "I'm not fine. Give the man an award."

"Well, no need to be condescending," he pouts.

"Sorry," Rose sighs, glancing down at the ground before returning her gaze to the previous location of the TARDIS. "Long day."

"Tell me about it," the Doctor agrees. "I was just sprouted and lost most of my friends to their own lives in their own world."

He says it lightly, but it warrants a doe-eyed gaze from Rose, who finally looks away from the TARDIS dematerialization location and right at him. She holds his gaze for a while, then asks him quizzically, "Are _you_ okay?"

"Fine," he says without a thought, and Rose raises her eyebrows at the notion. The Doctor switches subjects quickly before this can be further examined. "Not meaning to rush you, Rose, but how long are we planning to stay here?"

"You can go," Rose dismissed him, lowing herself to the ground in a sitting position, "wait with mum if you want."

"Fat chance," he scoffs, peering down at her. "Give me a ballpark figure."

"Well . . ." Rose begins nervously, "I suppose you would remember if you have the same memories, right? Back when we were travelling with Mickey," her voice falters when she says the name, as if it pains her, "and we landed on that spaceship connected to France from the past—"

"Ah," the Doctor understands.

Rose trailed off. "Sorry if that, like, offends you or something."

"No," he replies. "It's fine."

The Doctor sits himself down next to Rose, prepared to wait with her, even if the original Doctor actually did end up returning for her.

And really, it's something he would absolutely consider doing.

* * *

Five and a half hours later, the TARDIS'd Doctor didn't show. The meta-crisis Doctor hopped to his feet, offering his hand down to Rose.

"Well, that three-hundred-thirty minutes," he announces.

Rose's face looks pained as she looks on at the still-vacant space before her. The scenery itself is rather dreary, grey and pale and cloudy, so sadness looms over the both of them like blanket. The Doctor is eager to leave. Frankly, so is Rose, but not in the same way.

Rose starts at the hand offered to her, as if just noticing it. She takes it cordially, and the Doctor hoists her to her feet.

"Off we go, then," he smiles encouragingly.

Rose forces something resembling a smile of her own, but she still seems just as dreary as their surroundings.

"Where's mum?" she asks.

"Took off that way," the Doctor nudges his head toward the rocks.

They start trudging off together, side by side. Rose's arms are crossed tightly to her chest.

"So do you still live with your mother, then?" the Doctor inquires, trying to drum up a nice conversation between the two of them.

"No," she replies, clearly trying to make an effort as well. "They got me a place closer to the Torchwood facility. It's decent, but nothing compared to a…"

She purses her lips, catching herself before she says the words.

_But nothing compared to a TARDIS._

"But, yeah, it's nice. My parents are rich now."

She says it so passively, like money doesn't mean all that much to her. The Doctor smiles to himself at the notion.

"Where will you be staying?" she asks suddenly.

"What?" the Doctor frowns, confused.

"I guess you could stay with Jackie and Pete until you get your bearings," she mused.

" _Get my bearings_?" the Doctor repeats.

"Well, yeah."

"Rose, I've been travelling space and time, or at least have the memories of it, and you expect to just buck up and get my bearings?"

"It's what I did!" Rose shoots back, a bit of resentment creeping into her voice. "What else are we supposed to do with you besides throw you out in the world and see how it works?"

"Some specifics were hinted at," the Doctor reminds her.

"Excuse me?"

"As far as you and I go, the intention was rather clear."

Rose brings them to a half, stopping to face him as she argues. "The Doctor does not have the authority to shove me with someone and expect me to fall head over heels for him because they know how to die!"

"You didn't seem to mind so much five and a half hours ago!" the Doctor countered, the same bitterness rising in his voice as well. "And, if we'd check the records, we'd see that you already developed somewhat of a fondness for me."

"That wasn't you!" Rose exclaims before she can stop herself.

"Rose, essentially, it was—"

"Let's not dive into the technicalities of it, please," she requests, beginning to trudge off again.

The Doctor trots after her, "Rose, in order to make this work, get a new perspective about it."

" _This_?" she echoes. "What exactly is _this_ supposed to be?"

"Must I repeat the part about the clear intention?"

"I wish you wouldn't," she rolls her eyes.

"Rose," the Doctor says, almost as a reprimand. When she doesn't so much as look at him, keeping up her brisk pace, her shoes smashing into the sand, he tries again. " _Rose_."

Slightly fed up with the cold shoulder, the Doctor moves to step into her path, grabbing hold of her shoulders before she bumps into him.

"Rose Tyler, you listen to me," he demands, not rudely, but with an intensity that demanded to be heard.

Rose doesn't answer. Her lips a hard line and her jaw squared, but she seems to be listening.

"I know you don't understand the science of it, and frankly, there's less room in my brain, and I don't understand it entirely either. Maybe I was with you for those two years, maybe I wasn't and I sprung from that hand thing a few hours ago. You know what? Maybe this is all a very vivid dream. There's a surprising amount of theoretical guessing involved in space-time travel. Maybe we're not even in a parallel world and the TARDIS instead set its coordinates on a strikingly similar planetoid filled with humanoids that feed off—"

"The point, Doctor? If you don't mind," Rose suggests.

"The point is, no matter what I am, I still . . . I still love you and you still love him...me."

Rose bats his arms off of her shoulders. "That's presumptuous of you, isn't it? To tell me how I feel ?"

"You told me you did."

"I told _him_. And you just said neither of us grasp the science, so don't try to jump into it, alright? For all we know, you just have the memories and you actually are a few hours old."

"This all could be very simple, Rose," the Doctor informs her, getting very close to her face.

"Simple?" she scoffs. "Please, point out one part of this situation that is in any way simple."

"Fine," he accepted. "I lo—"

Rose groans, and pushes past him.

"Rose Tyler, were you always this difficult?" the Doctor calls after her.

"More so, trust me," a new voice chimes in.

Rose Tyler ambles over to stand beside her mother, seated on one of the smoother rocks situated on Darlig Ulv Stranden.

"Just in time, you two," Jackie grins broadly. "Torchwood should be along and minute. Take's them a bit to get their bearings, I suppose."

The Doctor and Rose did not bring up the poor word choice and let the previous conversation topic fizzle out.

"Torchwood?" the Doctor scrunches his eyebrows, moving toward the Tyler girls.

"Yeah," Rose informs him. "That's where I went to get _my_ bearings, remember?"

"How's that going?" the Doctor asks, moving to stand beside her.

"I don't know if I still have a job," she realizes abruptly.

"Why not?"

"Torchwood was helping her get back to you . . . err . . . The Doctor," Jackie informed him. "They all assumed she'd stay there."

"Ohh," the Doctor muses. "Well, I assume they'd let you back in if you wanted. You must've been good at your job, right?"

"I was a bit . . ." she looks at him pointedly, ". . . difficult."

The Doctor chortles.

Just then, the sand at their feet begins to stir. They look skyward, where an aerodynamic-looking, dish-shaped object casts an oblong shadow on the beach shore as it eases toward them.

"Seriously," the Doctor groans. "A flying saucer?"

"You're the only one on the planet who wouldn't be impressed," Rose says. Her blonde hair twirled around itself in the wind the ship created.

"You don't seem impressed," the Doctor notices.

"I've seen ships that were bigger on the inside," she points out.

She begins to smile, but then she remembers how unlikely it is that she'd ever see that ship again.

And her smile falters.

The Doctor looks upon the expression shift sadly, wondering if she'd ever see her smile a big, shameless grin with him ever again, or if her memories would prevent her from doing so.


	2. Possessive and Regressive

Pete Tyler was waiting in the flying saucer, guiding the gang inside.

"Nice to see you again, Doctor," he had greeted.

"Meta-crisis Doctor," Rose corrected as she brushed past. "Real one's back home."

The Doctor looked dejected, but Rose didn't turn around to see it.

Now, they are seated side-by-side, Rose at the window and the Doctor beside, strapped into large, metal chairs with plush, red cushions that look all-business despite their surprising comfort level.

Rose spends most of the trip staring out the window and chewing her fingernails. The Doctor keeps glancing over at her, half-hoping she'd look back and half-hoping she wouldn't.

"How's Pete and Jackie?" the Doctor finally chalks up the nerve to ask.

"Fine. Married. Baby. Fine," Rose answered without breaking her gaze with the clouds.

"How's your new home?" he presses.

Rose drops her hand from her lips and folds them into her lap. "Nice little place. Well, it's not exactly little, actually. It's pretty nice. My parents are rich now, after all."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Yeah, I s'pose."

"Not to be forward," the Doctor begins, "but is there any reason you aren't looking at me?"

Rose hesitantly brings her face up to his.

"Give it to me straight, Rose, am I really that painfully hideous without the other heart?"

Rose chuckles lightly. "No, it's just weird still."

"What is?"

"If you had to guess?" she says. "Life, right now, is weird. Life ever since I met him."

"Me."

"You. Old you. Leather-jacket Doctor. Whatever."

Suddenly, and completely without warning, Rose sniffles.

The Doctor's eyes widen at her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine," Rose replies shortly. "And I mean that this time."

Rose is a crier and has been since the Doctor has known her, but she always bucked up and got herself together. Every single time. If he waits, it will pass. He is almost certain of it.

But he comforts her anyway, like a reflex.

"What's wrong?" he asks gingerly.

Rose wipes her nose with sleeve. "It's . . . it's been a long day."

"Tell me about it," the Doctor agrees. "I was just spawned."

Rose chokes out a chortle. "I didn't even get to say goodbye to Mickey. I thought I'd be able to see him again."

"Mickey doesn't need you," the Doctor tells her.

Rose shoots him a rather confused look.

"Yeah, I worded that wrong," he frowns at himself. "I mean . . . Mickey's fine. He's a big boy."

"Yeah, I'm sure he is," Rose agrees. "I guess I'm just a little selfish. I wish I could see him again, you know?"

"I know just how you feel," the Doctor mutters.

Rose looks up at the Doctor at the statement. They lock eyes, and don't say anything, don't smile or frown, for a long while.

The ship lands outside the Torchwood facility, where land transport was provided to the Doctor, Rose, and Jackie, with Pete doing the driving in a jeep that could brave mountainous terrains and stretches of desert, and therefore does satisfactorily on the paved streets.

"Is transportation always this slow?" the Doctor comments from the back seat across from Rose.

"It's not like we haven't tried building a TARDIS," Pete responds.

The Doctor scoffs at the notion. Rose lets out a small smile of her own at the ridiculousness.

"So Tony!" the Doctor pipes up in that cheery way of his. "Tony! The little boy! How is he? What's he like?"

"Oh, he's wonderful!" Jackie beams. "Knows how to throw a fit, though, just like his favorite sister."

Rose flushes, slumping into her seat.

"Doctor, not to be forward," Pete cuts in, "but do you have any plans for the future?"

The Doctor and Rose lock eyes again, but their gazes dart away quickly. "Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to join Torchwood in their work," he offers. "We could use a mind like yours."

The Doctor frowns. "I'm not really fond of repetitious, organized, routine . . . work. Or staplers. Staplers seem hazardous. Surely there's a safer way to attach papers to each other."

"Torchwood is hardly cubicle work," Pete explains. "It's quite nerve-racking, actually."

". . . I'll think about it, maybe."

Like Rose said, her house is near the Torchwood facility. It is a decent-sized place, wide and one story and several windows with the curtains decidedly closed.

"Here's where you two get out," Pete announces as the car comes to a halt.

"Actually," Rose begins nervously, "I thought he could stay with you two. Your house is bigger, after all. Lots more room. And he could meet Tony."

"If you say so, dear," Pete shrugs obligingly.

"Thanks," Rose smiles kindly, sliding out of car and trotting towards the door.

"Oh, and Rose!" Pete calls after her.

Rose turns back to them.

"I didn't tell you earlier," he begins, "and I know you wanted to make it back over there and all, but I'm so glad you're here instead."

Rose purses her lips together into a thin line. She nods as acknowledgment for the affection, but doesn't reply otherwise. She starts off toward her front door again.

"That's funny," Jackie muses. "I thought we'd have to pry her off of you to get you two separated."

The Doctor runs a hand through his messy hair and drags it down his face, a sign of perplexity that goes unnoticed as Pete drives toward his and Jackie's home.

"So Doctor, I must admit, I'm a bit confused," Pete calls back to him. "Why are you here instead of Rose being there? And where is your TARDIS? And what does meta-crisis even mean?"

The Doctor sighs.

"Long story."


	3. Convergence and Recurrance

_Are. You. Serious,_ she thinks aggressively.

At two in the morning, Rose's phone blares, demanding that she not attain that beauty sleep she so desperately desires.

Her hand flies out to her bedside table, searching blindly for her phone. Locating a lump, she slams down on what feels an awful lot like the answer button and drags the device to her ear.

" _What_?"

"Rose, could you please get to Torchwood?" Pete requests into her ear.

A long and rather masculine groan expresses her opinion on that.

"I know it's your first night back, so believe me when I say I wouldn't be calling if it wasn't urgent."

Still half-asleep, Rose suddenly catches onto the edge of urgency in his voice. She shoots up to a sitting position.

"What is it?"

"Not now," he says. "Meet me at Torchwood. I'm bringing the Doctor."

"Why?" she doesn't stop herself from asking.

"If anyone can help, it's the both of you."

He hangs up at this. Rose lowers the phone, sighs deeply, and then clambers out of the warmth of her bed. In thirty minutes, she's Torchwood-bound.

When she arrives, it's as dingy as usual. The Torchwood run by Yvonne Hartman Wharf had been well-lit and well-maintained. Pete seems to think that there are more pressing matters than cleanliness and that the occasional blown fuse is a matter to be dealt with later. Rose, personally, agrees, but the place is still dingier than she'd like.

Pete and the Doctor are waiting near the entry.

"Come on," Pete beckons with his head when he sees her.

Rose trots after him and falls into step behind, beside the Doctor.

"Place is due for a cleaning," the Doctor mutters out of the corner of his mouth.

"Tell me about it," Rose agrees.

"Oh!" the Doctor chirps, seeing a big, complicated thing, rounded, metal, and important-looking. There were a couple late-night works fiddling about with it. "What's that?"

"Dimensional cannon," Rose answers, not looking up at him.

"Right," he frowns, knowing its implications. "Does it still work?"

Rose thinks for a moment before deciding to answer him. "Depends how dissolved that walls between the starting point and destination are. We're still attempting to strengthen it."

"Still?"

"Yeah, I suppose we still are."

Of course she is, the Doctor thinks, slightly frustrated. She still wouldn't give up trying to get back to him. He decides a swift change in subject is an order.

"This place feels different," the Doctor notes.

"How do you mean?" Rose goes along gracefully with subject switch.

"The whole entire world," he clarifies. "It feels a bit askew, like there's something off about it."

"That may attribute to you being human now," she suggests. "I imagine that might feel different."

"I feel like it's more than that…" the Doctor ponders.

"Here we are," Pete announces, approaching what looked like a computer screen mounted onto a wall in a poorly-lit room. He pokes the screen a certain number of times with a certain amount of time between each tap, and it hums to life.

"Now, look," he says, jabbing at a bunch of prompts. "Torchwood runs surveillance in the immediate surrounding space around Earth. About a half hour ago, we caught wind of some time-space convergence occurring just at the edge of Earth's atmosphere." An image of a dark, starry view of space, probably where the convergence took place, flashes across the screen.

"Was it a vortex manipulator with enabled teleportation?" Rose asks, leaning into the picture before her.

The Doctor smiles absentmindedly at her quick reply, at how straight-up _smart_ she was turning out to be.

"That's what I thought initially," Pete says, "but why would someone attempt to teleport at the edge of the atmosphere?"

"Maybe it's an alien," Rose suggests, "who, I don't know, sucks nitrogen out of otherworldly atmospheres."

"The thing is," Pete continues, tapping on more prompts. A bent grid appears across the sky, with a major dip in the middle, "I brought in you two for a reason. The TARDIS has been here a time or two. We've managed to record the effect the ship had on the surroundings. The ship leaves something of an imprint in the space it takes up. Molecules rearrange into a distinct pattern. This pattern fades over time, but for a while, it's there."

"What's your point?" Rose asks.

"The imprint left in the section this convergence was detected in was almost an exact match."

"Excuse me?" the Doctor chimed in, not sure he'd heard correctly. Perhaps he'd been busying himself admiring Rose a bit, not that he'd admit that.

Rose had gone stock-still, her eyes wide.

"He's saying . . ." Rose begins shakily. "He thinks that the TARDIS tried to land here."


	4. The Other Doctor

But that's impossible," the Doctor decides firmly. He leans forward toward the screen and its curving lines. It's time like these where he would've donned his thick-rimmed glasses, but they were in the company of his strikingly similar friend who lived quite a distance away.

Was it possible this striking similar friend was attempting to return?

Being as the two of them thought similarly, the Doctor tried to place himself in the metaphorical shoes of the other Doctor. If he were to leave Rose again, would he try to return?

Trying to return and failing would be like losing her a third time, and that would be monumentally painful. After leaving her at Bad Wolf Bay the first time, he never tried again. He decides that the neither he nor the other Doctor would attempt such an endeavor. Not if he felt it was impossible.

And yet, here was the imprint in time and space.

"Is 'impossible' even in your vocabulary anymore?" Rose comments.

The Doctor does a quick overview of human psychology and biology in his head, because he is fairly certain that humans cannot read minds. Then, he recalls he had just said something earlier.

"Oh," he remembers. "I s'pose."

"What time was the fluctuation?" Rose asks Pete.

"About an hour before I phoned you," he tells her.

"Have there been any other fluctuations anywhere else since?"

"Not that I've been alerted of."

"Right," Rose accepts stoically. "I . . . give me a minute."

Suddenly, Rose turns on her heel and briskly walks out of the room. Pete and the Doctor stare after her, confused.

"Well, I suppose it's not usual she would want space for a minute," Pete considers.

The Doctor considers differently. "No," she says. "Rose isn't the 'space' type." With that, he trots after, and Pete has to stand around confused without anyone to exchange glances with.

The Doctor exits the room, not finding Rose anywhere in sight. He retraces his steps, hoping that he'd catch Rose on her way out of the building. He finds her standing with her arms crossed, back to him, staring down the dimension cannon.

The Doctor approaches her gingerly, not wanting to startle her or impose on whatever sensitive thoughts she may be lost in. He comes to stand beside her and goes to put a hand on the small of her back. Deciding against that, he hovers the hand over her shoulder for moment. Deciding against that as well, he eventually crosses his hands behind is back.

"Okay?" he asks calmly.

"Fine," Rose replies without looking at him, chewing on her fingernails.

"This is a nice cannon," the Doctor comments. "What year is it? I wouldn't expect this generation to have this sort of technology."

"Torchwood runs on a different timeline than everyone else," she jokes. "Not…not literally, though."

"Right, of course," the Doctor smirks. "When did you start building it?"

"The same day as Bad Wolf Bay. Part one."

"Well. You certainly didn't waste much time."

"I didn't have to do it," she says, "but I felt like I did. I felt stuck here. Just sitting at home eating chips felt counterproductive. Just sitting around monitoring timelines felt useless. I kept trying to get back. It felt wrong not to."

"I understand," the Doctor assures her.

"And then it worked," Rose reminisces, "and I thought _this is it. It's over_. But it wasn't. I kept coming up in the wrong places and wrong timelines and wrong worlds. It took me so long to find him."

Suddenly, she turns to him. "You know what?" she begins. "You would've just seen me if you'd turned around."

"What?"

"When you were on that vehicle crossing Midnight. We were able to send a projection through one of the screens a few seconds long. I was yelling at the back of your head. If you'd turned around, you would've seen me."

"Really?" the Doctor muses, recalling all the times he could remember of his back being turned to a screen.

Rose turns back to the cannon. "Yeah, that was frustrating. I saw Donna a few times, too."

The Doctor winces at the mention of Donna. It's a generally painful subject now, and not only because he wouldn't see her again. The Doctor knew that her having a new-and-improved brain wouldn't work for too long. Right now, he knew Donna must have been dead or living without memories of him. Both options were equally painful to consider. But he hoped that the other Doctor had shirked his sentimentality enough to rid her of the memories and send her back home where hopefully she'd live a life that'd satisfy her.

"And then I saw you…him…and again, I thought it was over," she recalls. "And then, you get shot."

"You had the gun," he reminds her. "You could have stopped it."

"It happened quickly!" she defends herself. "Besides, it worked out. And now you're here."

"So that's a good thing, is it?" he asks hopefully.

"I s'pose," she responds disappointingly. "You know the Doctor's mind, right? The other one's?"

"Quite well."

"Answer me this," she requests, looking up at him. "If you hadn't existed, would that Doctor have let me stay with him?"

The Doctor is taken aback by the frankness of the question, but he drums up an answers quickly. "Possibly," he admits, "but then again, you'd probably all be dead."

Rose purses her lips. "Fair point. Genocide aside, you did well out there."

"If I were ever to see the other Doctor again, he'd probably thank me for that genocide," he suggests. "He'd have a lot of monsters on his hands if I hadn't."

"The Doctor wouldn't thank you for genocide," Rose scoffs.

"Yeah, you're right," he sighs.

"Do you think that's him?" Rose asks him, falling comfortably into conversing with this Doctor, no matter the subject. "Do you think the Doctor's returning? Do you think maybe he already has?"

"I didn't think he would," the Doctor admits, "but if we disagree on matters such as genocide, we may have different opinions on trying to get back." The Doctor pauses before he poses his next question, "What if he did come back? What would you do?"

"I'd…" Rose thinks for moment, "I'd…I'd give him a hug. Maybe slap him for leaving me again, but in the friendliest way I could manage. Or maybe not. I guess the honest answer is that I don't know. What would you do?"

"Most likely stand off to the side as you do whatever you decide to do."

"Wow. You're six feet of awkward, aren't you?"

"I like to think I'm more like six feet of brilliant."

Rose laughs, and her smile does that lighting-up-a-room thing, and it's hard for the Doctor to do anything but smile and consider how glad he was to still be able to see her and talk to her, even if she decided that she didn't want anything more than that. Her face had changed in the time he'd been without her, and he was so grateful he'd get to see it continue to change and that he'd see her smile for longer than he thought he would and that he could still bring about a laugh in her. He would never stop being grateful for her. He'd changed the course of his very life.

Rose was grateful for the Doctor as well. She'd expressed this to her family and to Donna when they'd met up. They'd listened to how much the Doctor had changed her.

They'd been so huge in each other's lives. And no matter what happens past this minute, no rewriting of time could change that.

Well, supposedly, one could, but that would be one complex and probably paradoxical rewriting.


End file.
